Chapter 672: The Lion King’s Shock
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 672: The Lion King’s Shock
"How have you been lately?"
"Not bad."
"Your body’s alright?"
"Just drained dry... wait, no, I mean I’m just exhausted. I’ll be fine after some rest. But you, Father..."
"Haha, it’s just a minor wound!"
After a brief moment of awkwardness, the conversation between father and son finally shifted toward less uncomfortable small talk.
Verner was tactful enough to drag away Donnik, who still seemed intent on playing the third wheel, leaving the long-separated father and son some private time.
"Is it really just a minor wound?"
Muen looked at the man on the hospital bed.
This man was revered as the Lion King. He commanded the Empire’s most elite army. Before the Demon Race had united and colluded with the Kingdom, he had practically been the one suppressing them single-handedly.
And now, this powerhouse of a man couldn't even manage to sit up to greet his own son.
"Donnik said you don't even have any medicine..."
"The wounds on my body can't be cured by medicine."
Lorne clutched his chest with a wry smile. "The Lava Red Poison from that old bastard of the Demon Mountain isn't so easily purged. While it’s not enough to take my old life, it’s left me temporarily immobilized. Those bastard Demon Grand Dukes must have planned this long ago—even if they couldn't truly kill me, they wanted to ensure I was powerless to command the army."
"To keep you pinned down, Father?"
"Yes, to stall me. They understand that the real obstacle isn't just me, the Lion King, but this fortress guarded by the Empire’s elite. Once this place falls, even a few more Lion Kings wouldn't be able to save the situation."
Lorne sighed.
In truth, before all this happened, he hadn't expected the Demon Race’s offensive to be so sudden, resolute, and united. The Demon armies, which had previously been like a tray of loose sand—each fighting their own battles under different Grand Dukes—had strangely converged this time.
That was why he had been caught off guard, leading to the heavy losses the Imperial army suffered during that abnormal mutation.
"Planned... long ago?"
Muen frowned.
A Demon Race that suddenly clenched into a fist would indeed be ten times more terrifying than before. But... why?
Was it really just because they saw an opportunity with the Kingdom stirring up trouble?
Or was it...
Based on the timeline, isn't this too early? No... there’s no point in obsessing over whether this matches the original anymore. Just like with Liya, the so-called 'plot' has long since become unrecognizable.
Muen abandoned these fruitless thoughts. The most pressing matter wasn't why the Demons were united.
It was how to ensure this fortress remained standing.
"Father, you said you were poisoned?"
"You could call it that. It’s some filth that freak from the Demon Mountain pulled out of his own head."
"Give me your hand for a second."
"My hand?" Lorne was taken aback. "What are you trying to do, kid?"
"It’s not like you’re a beautiful girl, Father. There’s no need to be so coy."
Muen was speechless. Taking advantage of the small amount of strength he had recovered, he grabbed his father’s arm.
Then, he closed his eyes, channeling that sliver of profound darkness flowing deep within his spirit.
"This is..."
Lorne’s mind sharpened. He felt a certain flame—one that made even his soul feel chilled—flickering within his body.
And the Lava Red Poison clogging his meridians was actually being devoured, bit by bit, by that flame.
"Hmph."
Muen let out a muffled groan and released his hand. Blood immediately began to trickle from his nose.
"As expected of a poison left by a Grand Duke. I can't resolve it all at once. It looks like I’ll have to take my time and do it slowly." Muen panted heavily, quickly regulating his breathing.
At that moment, Lorne wasn't celebrating the dilution of the poison. Instead, he stared at Muen with a solemn expression and said in a heavy voice:
"That power... it’s very dangerous."
"I know."
"It feels like some kind of power originating from an Evil God."
"No." Muen spoke seriously. "Though its origins are a bit complicated, this power now belongs entirely to me. It no longer has any essential connection to any Evil God. Please rest easy on that front, Father."
"Is that so..."
Lorne took another serious look at his son.
He knew his son had suddenly become exceptionally talented and must have gone through a lot in this past year, but it seemed his experiences were even richer... and more dangerous than he had imagined.
"I still feel like you shouldn't walk such a heterodox path."
Lorne snorted coldly. "In the future, you are to inherit the legacy of the Campbell family and the title of the Lion King. You don't need to rely on this kind of ghostly stuff to become strong!"
"The legacy..." Muen’s corner of his mouth twitched. "I remember that every generation of the Campbell family produces a Crown Bearer. Is it because..."
"Exactly! It is the 'Blood Lion Inheritance' of our Campbell family!"
After a portion of the toxin was devoured by the black flames, Lorne had regained some mobility. He stood up and pulled off his shirt.
...It was a body tempered through a thousand trials, his bronze skin covered in various scars. As Duke Campbell turned around, Muen clearly saw it—
A lifelike, blood-colored lion engraved upon his father’s back!
The moment the blood lion appeared, Muen felt an almost instinctive throb from his bloodline. Simultaneously, a deep, resonant lion’s roar echoed in his ears, making his heart race uncontrollably!
"Every head of the Campbell family must inherit this legacy. It won't make you a top-tier powerhouse instantly, but it paves the way to the peak of strength!"
Speaking of this, the pride on Lorne’s face was unmistakable. This was the key to why the Campbell bloodline remained thin yet flourished for centuries.
He hadn't been very strict with Muen before for this very reason. With the Campbell inheritance, no matter how much of a playboy Muen was, the family’s resources would have been enough to push him to the threshold of the Crowned Boundary.
Of course, it was better that he had shaped up on his own. After all, the inheritance determined the floor, but the ceiling still depended on the individual...
"Um..."
Muen suddenly raised a trembling hand, interrupting Lorne’s grand vision. "Fa... Father, I don't think I can inherit that legacy anymore."
"What?" Lorne was baffled. "You carry the Campbell bloodline. Why can't you—"
"Because..."
Muen also turned around, shed his shirt, and revealed what was on his back to his father.
It was an equally exquisite masterpiece.
However, it didn't possess the raw vitality and ferocity of the blood lion. Instead, it was filled with a breathtaking, delicate beauty.
Countless, densely packed magic patterns were meticulously carved, appearing as if they were integrated into the very texture of Muen’s skin, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
At the center of those patterns were several alchemy cores that looked like miniature suns. Three of them were already glowing... Even though Lorne knew nothing about such things, as Duke Campbell, he could still sense the indescribable profundity within them.
"Wha... Wha-wha-what?!"
But he was still angry—no, he was incensed.
"You rebellious son! How could you just haphazardly put something like this on your body? This looks exactly like the kind of thing those wordy, weak-willed mages come up with... You—you are committing sacrilege against our ancestors!"
Lorne beat his chest and stamped his feet in grief and indignation.
He could accept his son being a playboy who only knew how to chase women, but he could not accept his son being led astray by those damned mages!
"It’s... it’s not that serious, is it?" Muen shrunk his neck.
"No! I won't let you be ruined by such unreliable junk! Who gave you this? Tell me! Once I’m done with this war, I’m going back to settle the score with them!" Lorne was fuming, but he couldn't bring himself to vent his anger on his son, so he directed it all toward the "scoundrel" who had misled him.
"Teacher Mela."
"Who?"
"Mela Domir," Muen said. "My current teacher."
Lorne froze suddenly, as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him. His lips quivered as he stammered, "Which Mela Domir?"
"How many Meladomirs are there?" Muen shrugged. "The old loli who slept under the Academy for who knows how many years. I think there’s only one Mela Domir in the whole world."
"...Oh. I see. Is that so."
Lorne silently lay back down.
"So it’s the legendary Grand Magister Mela Domir. Well, that’s not surprising then. Only someone like her could engrave something so profound and marvelous."
"She is pretty amazing," Muen added consolingly. "I can't explain exactly what these magic patterns are to you right now, Father, but I can guarantee you that this is... well, just a tiny bit more high-end than our family’s Blood Lion Inheritance."
"..."
After his "good son’s" words of comfort, Lorne closed his eyes, appearing to fall into deep existential reflection.
Muen didn't disturb him, sensing that any further interruption would be bad for his father in every sense of the word. So, he waited patiently.
After a while...
"By the way, about those things that happened in Belland..."
Lorne acted as if nothing had happened, suddenly shifting the topic a thousand miles away.
"Didn't you receive the intelligence reports, Father?" Muen’s cheek twitched as he replied.
" I did. I just find it hard to believe even now." Lorne opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling with a complex expression. Although he had made many preparations, the events were still a shocking upheaval to someone far away at the border.
"His Majesty... His Majesty Audrich and I had a friendship spanning decades. I didn't expect him to leave so easily."
"His Majesty Audrich didn't leave 'easily.' He paved the way so that this result could be achieved."
Muen said solemnly, "The Inner Council lost. We won. And Celicia took up his will to become a truly empowered Empress. That’s why the Empire didn't implement the withdrawal strategy—a strategy that would have been more 'rational' and 'stable' but would have rendered all the efforts on the Abyss Defense Line completely moot."
"Is that so? Heh... that old fellow Audrich always thought further ahead than me."
Lorne smiled. "So, the Inner Council was truly and completely purged?"
"Yes. From top to bottom. You could say Belland has been scrubbed clean. In the future, when the Duke’s estate holds a banquet, it might not be as crowded as before."
Muen followed up with a joke, though speaking of these things brought back some absurd memories.
"I see... I fought those old bastards for twenty years. To think they’re gone before I even got a chance to act. It feels... complicated." Lorne smacked his lips and sighed.
"They got what they deserved. They brought it on themselves," Muen shrugged.
If those great nobles who had occupied the Empire for a thousand years hadn't been so greedy and had known when to retreat, it would have been very difficult for either the former Emperor Audrich III or the current Celicia to truly eliminate them.
With a hidden disease in the body, you often only know where the root of the problem is when it flares up—and only then do you find the resolve to cut it out.
"And what about home?" Lorne asked. "I haven't been back in so long, I don't know how things are."
"What could change at home? Neither you nor I are ever there. It’s all maintained by the maids. But don't worry, Father, your favorite fine wines and the garden have definitely been—"
"I’m talking about my estates! Who said anything about the Duke’s mansion? As long as I’m alive, who would dare touch the mansion?"
Lorne suddenly became agitated on the bed, turning to glare at his son. "You didn't actually sell them all, did you? Those estates were the accumulated wealth of generations of Campbells!"
"Ah... about that."
Muen scratched his cheek awkwardly and said sheepishly, "I did sell... one, two, three... maybe eight or nine of them. But don't worry, Father, those estates weren't sold for nothing. At least in terms of returns, we’re currently in the green!"
"Of course I know you’re in the green. You’ve practically become a Prince Consort now; of course it’s a massive profit... If you had lost money, I—I would..." Lorne fumed for a long while, but in the end, he couldn't bring himself to say anything harsh.
If he were truly as strict with Muen as his "Lion King" title suggested, the previous Muen Campbell wouldn't have been spoiled into such a playboy.
"But speaking of which, you do have a bit of my youthful flair. You actually managed to win over Celi—no, Her Majesty the Empress, on your own."
Lorne snorted, his mood flipping faster than a book’s pages. He stroked his beard with satisfaction. "An engagement contract is ultimately a hollow thing to an Emperor. Having genuine feelings is a much better guarantee."
"It’s alright, I guess. Your son has a bit of talent in that area." Muen forced a smile.
"A bit of talent, sure. But you’re still a little behind me. You should know I’ve always been devoted; I only ever had your mother in my heart. But when I was young, there were still many female confidantes who admired me." Lorne stroked his beard, tilting his head back as he reminisced about his youth.
"Is... is that so?" Muen’s eyes wandered. "As expected of Father. Your personal charm is truly outstanding. I am deeply impressed."
"Hmm? That reaction of yours..."
As a Duke, Lorne was a shrewd man. He immediately saw that something was fishy with Muen’s state. A sharp glint flashed in his eyes.
"You aren't actually keeping a mistress behind the Empress’s back, are you? I heard earlier that you were quite close to some senior sister at the Academy."
"This... this..." Muen wiped away cold sweat. "We were a bit close. By the way, you know about that even from all the way out here, Father?"
"Do you really think the Campbell family’s intelligence system only serves you?"
As he spoke, Lorne grew agitated again. "How can you be so reckless? Any other woman would be one thing, but that’s Celicia! She’s the Empress of the Empire! You’re cheating on the Empress? Do you want the entire Campbell family to—"
"Father, please calm down. Celicia... she knows about it."
"Huh?"
Lorne, the self-proclaimed "Saint of Love," was instantly stunned. "Her Majesty... knows?"
"Yes, she knows." Muen nodded seriously.
Since they had already done that together, there was no point in playing ostrich and pretending no one knew.
"No way. Based on my understanding of Her Majesty’s character, she’s not someone who tolerates flaws. She’d allow you to mess around?"
Lorne was shocked. "Even if her feelings for you are so deep that she can't bring herself to hurt you, are you sure she won't just... have those other women drowned in the river?"
"Well... I think Celicia definitely wants to." Muen gave an even more awkward smile. "It’s just that she can't do it right now."
"..."
Lorne froze again.
He had lost count of how many times he had been stunned today.
But even as he froze, his mind began to race frantically.
After a long time, he finally understood what "even the Empress can't do it right now" meant.
"Sigh. Son, if something really happens in the future, don't tell anyone you’re related to the Campbell family."
Lorne patted Muen’s shoulder with a look of profound grief.
"Our Campbell family is of humble status and carries little weight. We cannot withstand such a terrifying tsunami..."